Hearts On Campus: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance, Flora Ferrari [best authors to read .txt] 📗

never thought I’d see anyone else but me in the reflections of these huge windows, and looking in at her as I grab our bags, I can almost hear the others too.

See the children I know we’ll have, chasing a pair of dogs through the place as she calls out for them to take their muddy boots off inside the house.

A place like this needs family.

It needs life.

The life I’m sure we can both enjoy here, and in Boston too.

“We can come here for holidays and weekends, once you start in Boston,” I remind her as I set our luggage down by the door.

“Boston?” she exclaims, gnawing on a chicken leg as she closes the refrigerator.

“When you do your research thing… Next year.”

Her face falls a little but she tries to smile.

“We only just got here and you wanna talk about Boston?” she asks, getting that worried look again and I know I’ve said too much too soon.

No pressure, as slow as she likes, right Wes?

Dammit.

“Sorry babe,” I murmur. “I just want you to feel at home, know you can settle without having to worry.”

“I might not even have a research grant, Wes.”

Not because of you, is that what she means?

I busy myself with our bags, not wanting to start another argument.

After a moment she follows me into our room, taking it in for a second before apologizing.

“I’m sorry, Was. I gotta ring the Professor. This is eating me up inside. I’ll be climbing the walls by Tuesday if I don’t know what’s gonna happen,” she admits.

I hate to agree with her, but I think we both feel the same way.

I haven’t told her I already quit, and I should really make a few calls of my own to make it official.

“Alright then,” I tell her. “I think you’re absolutely right.”

“You’re not mad at me?” she asks, and I can only shake my head as I hold her again.

“I could never be mad at you, Katelyn. You’re my queen and this is your castle now. It’ll work out. You’ll see.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Katelyn

“Can I snoop in the other side of the house while I make my call?” I ask Wes, who frowns at me for even asking.

“Your house too,” is all he says, pecking my cheek and grabbing my ass before he smacks it playfully, pushing me toward the other side of the house.

I switch my phone on, busying myself with going from room to room instead of making my call, but it rings not long after, making the decision for me.

“Professor Bernstein, I was just going to call you,” I tell him, seeing my face in a window, awkwardness written all over it.

Guess it’s better to get this over and done with so we can enjoy what’s left of the weekend.

“I’ll get straight to the point, Katelyn,” he says, sounding more hurt than anything.

“You know I respect you as a scholar, but I also care about your wellbeing as a person, Katelyn,” he adds.

It’s true, he’s been the closest thing to a friend since I started college, instrumental in getting me the post-graduate research grant as well.

I owe Professor Bernstein a lot. But do I owe him an explanation for how I feel about Wes?

He seems to think I do.

“How long has this been going on for, Katelyn? One minute I’m chatting with my neighbor, the coach, and the next I discover he’s… well. The next minute he’s involved with my start student.”

I knew he’d be upset, lecture me, and tell me how foolish it is.

But I don’t expect his attitude towards Wes, and my future.

“I made your position here, Katelyn. And I can take it away too. The scholarship board doesn’t take kindly to scandal, but there’s still a way to keep things right. To guarantee your future.”

I open my mouth to speak but think better of it.

The solution on offer is pretty clear, I can see that much.

“Just come back to school and we can make sure you have plenty of things to occupy your time, so you don’t have to be so…”

“Involved?” I interrupt him, almost hissing the word as I feel my emotions start to get the better of me.

“Now, Katelyn,” he cautions me again, carrying on with his concern which I can see is just self-preservation.

“I’ve arranged a meeting, for tomorrow morning with Dean Masters. I’d like you to be there. We can work all this out, put it to rest before the term resumes, and make sure everything’s still in place for you next year. How does that sound?” he asks like it’s an offer I can’t refuse.

“And all I have to do is dump Wes?” I ask him, not even trying to hide my contempt.

“In time you won’t see it like that Katelyn. You’ll see it’s for the best once you get to Boston, once you grow up a little… find someone your own age,” he says calmly, sounding more like the friendly grandpa than the domineering Professor I think he actually is after all.

“What time tomorrow?’ I ask politely, deciding on the spot I know exactly where my future lies.

I know exactly what side my bread’s buttered on now.

“Nine o’clock,” he says amiably. “You’ll be there, at Dean Masters’ office?”

“I’ll be there,” I drone and hang up, taking some more time to move from room to room, picturing furniture we haven’t bought yet, hearing sounds we haven’t heard just yet.

I’m standing in the smallest room, overlooking the south side of the hill when I feel Wes’s hands over mine.

I’m holding my belly without even knowing why a tear is running down my cheek but I’m not sad.

It’s like I can feel the future of this house.

I can feel my future and it’s with Wes.

Wes and our family.

“Tomorrow morning,” I tell him softly, and I feel him nodding.

“Nine o’clock,” he adds, echoing my thought.

“You too?” I ask him, wondering if he’s had a similar call from the powers that be and I feel him nod again.

“I told you I’ll always be by your